


Playing With Matches

by lielabell



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Begging, Lydia rides them both like a boss, Multi, Pegging, Power Dynamics, Rimming, Threesome - F/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-05-16
Updated: 2012-05-16
Packaged: 2017-11-05 11:55:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,998
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/406131
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lielabell/pseuds/lielabell
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles and Jackson get on like baking soda and vinegar, but getting on isn’t the point right now.  Getting off is.  And no one has sexual tension like to teenaged boys who supposedly hate each other.  Add to that the fact that he’s quick on the uptake and desperate to please and you have yourself one very compelling package.  Besides, there wasn’t any question in Lydia’s mind that Stiles would say yes.  Hell, he probably would have volunteered, if he had known what she was on the market for.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Playing With Matches

**Author's Note:**

> For Figletofvenice who asked for Lydia/Stiles/Jackson and pegging.

Lydia instantly rejects the idea when Jackson first brings it up. She’s never been good at sharing her things and she doesn’t see how this will be any different. Not gonna happen, she tell him, her voice as flat and determined as she can make it. 

But Jackson isn't deterred-- he never is when he really wants something -- and he just keeps talking about it. Talking about how good it will be, how much fun they will have. How great it will be to have another body to play off of. And all that talking... well it gets to her. Makes her start to want things she never wanted before. Gets Lydia thinking.

The end result of which is the situation they currently find themselves in: Jackson on his hands and knees in the middle of his bed with Lydia slowly thrusting into him, her favorite pink dildo strapped firmly in place, while Stiles watches avidly, sprawled out in Jackson’s desk chair with his hand on his dick.

Lydia isn't stupid, no matter what she might want other people to think. She knows that Stiles is into her, has known since he tried to give her his Kool-Aid and ended up spilling it all over her favorite purple dress way back in third grade. Which, by the way, is also as long she's known that she's _not_ into him. He's just so... _Stiles_. All rambling and clumsy and don't even get Lydia started on his crazy eyes. Not at all potential boyfriend material there. Even if he's not, strictly speaking, all that bad looking. 

Jackson, on the other hand, now there is some prime boyfriend material. Hot, in that slap you in the face way, with a loud, domineering personality. He's been top dog in Beacon Hills since he moved here the summer between fifth and sixth grade. And Lydia has been glued to his side ever since. 

But this, this isn't about boyfriends and girlfriends. This isn't even about being popular. This is something else entirely. Which is why she picked Stiles to be here in the first place. 

Stiles and Jackson get on like baking soda and vinegar, but getting on isn’t the point right now. Getting off is. And no one has sexual tension like to teenaged boys who supposedly hate each other. Add to that the fact that he’s quick on the uptake and desperate to please and you have yourself one very compelling package. Besides, there wasn’t any question in Lydia’s mind that Stiles would say yes. Hell, he probably would have volunteered, if he had known what she was on the market for. 

The way he is watching them right now, with a rapt look on his face and his pupils blown wide, tells her everything she ever needed to know. His hand is moving lazily up and down his length and he’s pausing every other stroke to swipe his thumb across the head, rubbing precome into the sensative flesh. God, he looks almost as delicious as Jackson does, and Lydia didn’t think that was even possible. 

Stiles tilts his head back and moans, his throat a long arc that Lydia just wants to bite into. Her hips stutter to a stop as she takes in the sight, her fingers digging into Jackson’s hips as her mouth goes dry. Jackson lets out a sound of protest, nudging back against her and she starts up again, slower than before. 

"Please," Jackson's voice breaks on the word and, god, he's even prettier when he begs. 

Lydia sucks on her lower lip to keep from moaning herself. "Maybe I want it slow," she says when she’s back in control, rolling her hips a little to tease him. The movement pulls a whimper out of him and she can't help but do it again. Jackson’s knuckles go white where his hands are fisted in the sheets. 

"Lydia," he pants, arching back into it. 

“Yes sweetie?” she asks, letting her hips rock forward ever so slowly.

Jackson’s head drops between his shoulders as his breath comes out in harsh, ragged gasps. “Please,” he all but whispers.

“Please what?” Lydia takes a hand off his hip to trace down his spine. 

Jackson shivers at the touch, letting out another of those delicious moans. “Please fuck me,” he says, and Lydia doesn’t even have to see his face to know that he’s blushing. “Please, Lydia. Stop teasing me and give it to me. Hard.”

Lydia makes a clucking sound. “See, that wasn’t so bad now was it?” she asks, petting his back as she snaps her hips forward. 

“Oh god.” 

Lydia’s head jerks up, her eyes narrowing as her attention goes back to Stiles. “I thought I told you to be quite.”

“You did,” Stiles replies, nodding in agreement. “You totally did, and I said I would be but, god. You have no idea how hot you look.”

“I have _plenty_ of idea, thank you very much,” Lydia snaps back. “Now shut up or I’ll stop.”

“No!” both boys protest in unison. The horror in Stiles voice a lovely counterpart to the desperation in Jackson’s.

“Shut the fuck up, Stiles,” he hisses turning his head far enough to the side to glare at the other boy. “God, Lydia, why did it have to be him? I mean, when you finally said yes to this, I thought it would be Danny. Danny’s actually _gay_.”

Lydia pinches his hip, causing him to suck in a breath. “Are you really questioning me right now?” 

“No, no,” he shakes his head, “just, I thought it would be Danny is all.”

“Danny is gay, you idiot. _Gay_. As in, doesn’t like girly parts. At all.” Lydia swivels her hips, pulling a long moan out of Jackson. “And that’s no good for me. That’s no good at all. What’s the point of having two dicks in a room if I only get to play with one of them?’

“That’s a very, very good question,” Stiles says, once again forgetting that part of the bargain was that he shut his god damn mouth for the duration. “I mean, because as far as I can see, there is a perfectly good dick right here, attached to me, and it’s not getting any use at all.” 

Lydia snorts. “It’s getting as much use as it ever does.”

“Hey--” Stiles starts to protest, but Lydia cuts him off.

“Don’t even pretend like your hand isn’t the only thing that’s ever touched it before. And, hey look at that, it’s touching it right now.” She gives him her especially vapid face. “So I don’t see what you are complaining about.”

Stiles groans and Lydia honestly can’t tell if it’s from frustration or the way he’s working himself. “It’s not a threeway if only two people are fucking,” he says around another groan. “Even if the two people in question are hot as fuck. God, please. Just let me touch you, Lydia. Please.” He sucks on his bottom lip, his eyes going half lidded. “Or, you know, let me touch Jackson. Yeah, that could be good. I could suck him off while you fuck him. Wouldn’t that be hot?? And then I wouldn’t be talking because my mouth would be full and, I don’t know, it would be super hot. You know it would. You fucking into him making him fuck into me. God, we haven’t even done it and just thinking about the possibility of it is pretty much already the hottest thing that’s ever happened to me. Aside from you asking me to be part of a threesome in the first place. Which, dude. I had to pinch myself to prove I wasn’t, you know, having the most lucid sex dream of my life. Gave myself a bruise and everything. See?” And he holds up his arm, like Lydia gives a shit about whether or not there is a bruise to back up his babbling. 

Jackson growls. “Please tell me you are going to let him do it, Lydia. Just to shut him the fuck up already, if nothing else.” 

Lydia cocks her head to the side, considering. She’s giving Jackson a long, slow ride, letting his impatience build with each measured thrust. Pretty soon he’ll be bucking back against her, trying to get her to break the easy pace she’s setting. Adding Stiles to the mix might make him be able to take it longer, which definitely has an appeal. Jackson gets off faster when it’s rough, and once he’s come, he’s pretty much down for the count. So drawing it out, well that can only be a good thing. 

But...

But it’s possible that giving Jackson something to thrust into, something warm and hot and wet, might just speed him on to his big O sooner rather than later. And that isn’t what she wants at all. Then again, there’s always Stiles to play with if Jackson feels the need to catch some zees. And it would shut Stiles up. Which, honestly, would be a very good thing because the boy can _talk_. He hasn’t stopped talking the whole time that Lydia’s been weighing her options. She’s just been letting his words wash over her like white noise and it’s a good thing she has, too, because when she tunes back in he’s talking about coefficients. _Coefficients._ How is that relevant at all? 

Lydia shakes her head. “Whatever,” she snaps in his direction. “Get on the bed, loser.” 

“What?” Stiles mouth drops open, making him look like someone’s extra special cousin. 

“Get on the bed, loser,” Lydia repeats. “Right now, before I change my mind and tell you to go home instead.”

“I’m getting! I’m getting!” Stiles jumps out of Jackson’s desk chair, sending it clattering to the floor. Then he’s scrambling across the room, tripping on nothing at all, before falling heavily onto the bed. His hand reaches out, nearly managing to touch Lydia before she slaps it away. 

“Did I say you could touch me? No.” She tosses her head and narrows her eyes. “Get under him. No, not that way. Position yourself so he can suck you too. Then I won’t have to hear either of you bitching.”

Stiles sort of sobs and nods so enthusiastically that Lydia is surprised his head is doesn’t all off. “Yeah, that’s,” he laughs and he scrambles around on the bed. “Best idea ever.” And then his mouth closes around the tip of Jackson’s dick and Jackson sort of sinks down into him with a moan and god. It’s even hotter than Lydia had predicted. 

“You like that, baby?” Lydia asks, tugging his hips back up against her with every thrust. 

“Fuck,” Jackson hisses, pushing into her eagerly. “Oh fuck, that’s good. God, I should have known you could be good at this, Stiles. You would be a natural cocksucker.”

Stiles makes a muffled sound as he lifts his head off the bed to get better access to Jackson’s dick. 

“Yeah, like that. Suck the tip. Just like that,” Jackson pants and now he’s pulling away from her, shoving more of himself down Stiles throat, wringing muffled happy sounds out of the otherboy. Lydia tugs him back up as she slams into him, ripping a moan out of him. “Oh shit, baby, that’s good,” he babbles, pistoning his hips so that he is rocketing back into her thrust then down into Stiles mouth. “Give me more,” he begs. “Please, give it to me harder, the way I like it.”

Lydia slides her hand forward to the middle of his back, pressing down. “How about you give Stiles some of what you’re getting, Jackson. Do a good job of it, and I’ll do you as hard as you want. I’ll open you so wide you won’t be able to sit right for a week.” 

Jackson lets out a whine at that before ducking his head to lick up the length of Stiles. Stiles makes another of those muffled sounds, a wet sort of moan, and Lydia doesn’t think she’s ever heard anything so hot in her life. “Do that again,” she orders as she finally, finally picks up the pace.

“Oh fuck, yes,” Jackson pops off Stiles’s long enough to snarl, his voice as desperate as his frantic thrusting. 

Then he’s back at it, sucking Stiles back down eagerly as he ruts into Stiles’s mouth. And Stiles, Stiles makes another one of those sloppy moans, like he’s loving getting his mouth fucked, being used for all he’s worth. 

Lydia bites down hard on her lip. She pushes Jackson’s legs farther apart with her knees and starts pounding into him, angling her hips so that she hits his sweet spot on every stroke, wrenching whimpers and moans from him each and every time. He pulls off of Stiles with a grunt, his breath coming in fits and starts. 

“Shit,” he says, his hands scrambling at the sheets. “Oh, Jesus, I’m close.”

So close that he falls out of Stiles’s mouth and doesn’t even bother to get back in. Stiles grumbles a bit, then settles for licking and sucking up and down the length of him, hands coming up to cup and rolls Jackson’s balls, which, god, that’s hot. 

“Come for me,” Lydia snaps, thrusting hard. “Come for me now.”

And he does, his back arching as he shoots off all over Stiles chest and stomach. Lydia presses deep, then reach around to stroke him through the aftershocks, her free hand rubbing up on down his side. 

“I’m going to pull out,” she tells him when he stops trembling. “You ready?” He gives a nod and she moves back, sliding the dildo out in a smooth, easy glide. 

Jackson moans, the same way he always does when she takes it out of him, and Lydia can’t help but smile. “You did good,” she praises, lowering her head to blow and lick at Jackson’s swollen asshole. 

“Oh god,” Jackson pants, shifting back a little. “You know what that does to me, baby.” Lydia smirks a little because, yeah. She does. And she loves it. Love the sounds he makes, the way he squirms against her as she delicately licks inside. 

Stiles lets out some delicious sounds of his own, his hand skimming down his body to wrap back around his dick. “Holy fucking shit, that’s supernova hot,” he mumbles, his eyes all but glazed over. “Lick him some more, Lydia. Make him moan like that again.”

“Shut up,” Jackson growls half-heartedly. His arms are trembling and sounds like he’s about to collapse, so Lydia gives him one last lick, then pulls back.

“Love that ass,” she says fondly as she watches him drop to the mattress, his eyes already starting to flutter shut. 

“Love your ass,” Jackson says back, his voice soft and affectionate, the way he only gets after a good session between the sheets. 

“Love your ass too,” Stiles puts in, his hand darting out to brush timidly against the ass in question. 

Lydia gives him a slow smile. “You’re going to love it a whole lot more in a second, big boy. Want to know why?”

Stiles blinks at her. “Uh, why?”

“Because I’m about to do this.” Lydia moves around Jackson and crawls on top of Stiles, pressing her body tight against his.

“Oh fuck,” he stutters, his eyes going wide as saucers. 

Lydia smirks. “That’s the idea, yeah.” Then she’s spreading her legs, rising up over him and then sinking down onto that hard, long dick of his and fuck. It like a little piece of heaven, him pushing up inside her. 

She ought to feel ridiculous, riding him with a plastic dick bobbing in front of her like something out of a kinky porn show. His hand tracing along the straps of the harness ought to be weird, off putting, but it isn’t. God, it isn’t at all. Lydia sucks hard on her lower lip as she falls forward, catching her weight on her hands. 

“Do you like it?” she asks, rolling her hips. “Do you, Stiles?”

“Yes,” he replies, his voice fervent as his hands coming up to cup her breast. “Holy shit, yes.” His thumb brushes across one of her nipples and Lydia can’t help but moan. “Oh god.” Stiles sucks in a breath. “Is it alright if I...” 

And then he’s ducking his head, angling down until his lips close around the nipple he touched, suckling gently. “Harder,” she demands, fisting a hand in his hair and pushing him tight against her. She feels the edge of teeth and the rasp of his tongue and just like that she’s coming, body shuddering against him as she bucks and writhes. He’s making noises of his own, his fingers digging into her, but Lydia can’t focus on anything other than her own pleasure, riding him until her hips start to hurt and her knees ache. 

“You’re beautiful like that,” Jackson says sleepily, his hand reaching out to graze her hip. “My fierce amazon queen.” 

Lydia thinks about saying something in reply, but then Stiles is biting down hard on her breast as he thrusts up into her and the words just disappear. Everything disappears for a while and when it comes back again she’s pressed up between them, her front to Jackson’s back and Stiles somehow wrapped them both. She’s warm, safe and exhausted, her body aching in all the right ways, and all she wants to do is sleep. 

But before she can there’s something... A thought that tickles at that back of her mind. Something about boyfriends and girlfriends and the potential for more. Lydia lets her eyes close, even though she really ought to make someone turn off the light and clean them up. Someone like Stiles, who is sweet in his own way, even if he’s back to muttering half-formed thoughts under his breath. 

There’s something there, she thinks again. But whatever it is, it will have to wait until morning.


End file.
